soldier in the camp, of Sigismund's camp
“I guard ditches in the mud for silver that never comes, shivering and wishing for my spare boots.”
Things Christopher had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Ascension, at Vespers
My feet are wet again. If James had not let Nicholas slip out the tavern window, I would have my spare boots. I swear by Saint Wenceslas, James owes me a new pair of leather boots and I will not let him forget it.
Nota scribaeDictated while pointing a finger at my chest the entire time.
the third day of Easter week, at None
Tuma knows a carter going south, but he refuses to ask him to pass a message to my wife Cecily in Znojmo. She thinks I died on the march. Tuma is a selfish bastard who only cares about his own nagging.
Palm Sunday, at Prime
Standing by the supply carts watching the sutlers come and go. The captains sit by warm fires while we freeze out here for Kuttenberg silver we never see. Bloody hell, my neck is stiff and my feet are soaked.
At least you are not stuck in Kolin with the rats.
the feast of St Gertrude, at Terce
Jarda is weeping again over the fifteen groschen and the iron pot Prokop took. I told him to shut his mouth. Prokop is snoring in a locked barn in Kolin, and I am just glad I do not have to share a tent with that loud arse anymore.
Fifteen groschen is a fortune, Christopher. You would weep too.
I am weeping for my ruined footwear, you fool. A pot is nothing.
Nota scribaeThe man spat on the ground after he finished speaking.
the Wednesday after Candlemas, at Sext
Andrew refused to pay the fine from the mess purse, so Nicholas is rotting in a village gaol. I do not care about Nicholas, and I do not give a shit about Maurice's canvas, but that whoreson took my spare boots down into the cellar with him.
It was good canvas, Christopher. The rain comes right through without it.
I am not paying ten groschen for a stolen pig.
Nota scribaeThe swearing was much worse than what I have set down here.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
He went out the window, Christopher. I am not buying you boots for that fool's stolen pig.
You were supposed to watch him. You owe me leather.